Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1887-12-01
CHAPTER XVII

uleeL MIN.
CHAPTER XVII.
Suzanne sprang forward, her cheeks in a
glow, her eyes ablaze and her beauty so daz-
cling that the poor young man stood as il
rooted to the spot, incapable Of speech or
movement.
81 see you'll you cannot hide from mer'
And then suddenly, from some indefinable
presentiment Of trouble, her cheeks grew
pale, her smile faded and her lovely violet
eyes saddened. He had to show himself, te
try to smile, but she remained serious
Raymond" said she, something has hap
pened. What is it!"
81 assure you, you are mistaken said he,
taking her hands and pressing them to his
lips.
raymond" she continued gravely, II
have something to tell you, which will,
hope, be the means of consolidating our hap
piness."
Their happiness! Raymond sighed.
"You see,n she continued, "my father has
also been searching for the real criminal, and
he thinks, with much reason that he has dis
covered the wretch. If that proves true.
Raymond, we are free to avow our love.
Come with me to see father before you 90
home. He will be SO glad to see you Come,
let us hurry. Then afterward we will 60 and
tell the good news to your mother, who will
be so happy, too, Raymond-your mother,
whom / love so well already"
His motherl He withdrew his arm from
the light constrant of her hand, and then
Suzanne saw what she had not noticed before,
that he was deathly pale and wan, and that
he could not look her in the eyes.
"In heavens name what has happened to
render you like thisT' said she, breathless with
fear
Nothing
"Hush, do not say that. 1t is not true.
am afraid some new misery awaits us.
pray you tell me-"
II cannot go to your house now, Suzanne.
must go home first"
II will go with you and we can talk on the
way, and l can tell you all that has happened
and all that We hope"
mo, Suzanne, shall be with my mother
all day, and at night must go back to Paris.
Believe me, my dear Suzanne, dearer than
life, that / am not deceiving you"
'Tell me the truth and l will, even il it
costs my life"
Suzanne, pray you do not question me.
can only say our happiness is destroyed.
Our marriage can never take place. 1t would
x
people,
"A great miseryi 1t is but little while
that you pretended to think it a great happi-
ness. have been told that men are tickle. /
know it now
"But OH best beloved of women, | am not
changed. l shall never change, but new
sorrow has overshadowed u.s. and it is one
which can never lift. / pray you do not ask
me to say more; my heart is broken"
81 believe you. So, then, it is a secret be-
tween us which you will not tell me, or can
notg'
He lowered his head.
Sand this secret" she continued, sis not
yours, as mine was not mine. There must be,
then, something of that sort that forces you
to keep up before me like silence, and that
stains the honor of some one of your family.
see you cannot answer. and that from pale
you now blush red Have divinedW
He joined his hands in agony and held
them out to her in mute supplication.
Very well, Raymond. Now it is my time
to say, whatever the shame, whatever the
dishonor, l love you, and shall still be proud
to hear your name. You did not cast me off
when you learned the full measure Of my
woes Tell me, then, Raymond, tell me
your secret You are too noble and too
proud so that this dishonor cannot be your
own, but l must hear Raymond, just as you
heard me, so that | may consent or refuse.
Do you think / would refusep
''Do not ask. Do not wish TO know, and if
you did | should be the most unhappy Of
men. 1t is, alas! useless
Raymond, are you tired of me, and is this
a subterfugel Please say so, if it is, though |
am willing, God knows, to suffer anything
for you and with you / do not wish you TO
feel that / am of the kind that urges their
love upon another"
This is more than cruel! My life, my
love and my souls idolatry are given to you,
and you only do or shall ever love-"
Then since you love me, do not plunge my
whole life in one perpetual mourning. Leave
me little hope If you do not wish me to
die"
"Adieu, Suzanne, my precious lover
Raymond, pray you reconsider. Keep
your secret locked in your heart; / will
never ask it, never, l swear. / will never
think of it. Our happiness will be possible
again. Oh, Raymond, do not refuse. If
you knew how many tears have wept in
my lonely life since my childhood, and how
much l want to know what peace and happi-
ness are"
The poor child had Raymonds hand and
she lifted it to her lips and kissed the fingers
one by one. Her sweet words came to his
ears like distant music, and his whole being
thrilled at that tender caress, but the sweet
1 er it was the more was it his duty to leave
her and fly And his happiness and hers
could be secured SO very easily. He had but
| to keep his awful secret and open his arms
| to become the husband of the woman he
! loved. He had but to say one word, and he
made no sound or gesture, for at that mo-
ment he seemed to see in one flash Of light
that whole terrible drama. And his soul re-
VOTED at the thought Of his wife, If he con-
sented, being the daughter Of his mothers
victim. He questioned his conscience no
| more, for he knew he could not permit such
| an abomination.
Raymond drew back and with groan of
| agony the like of which she never heard. he
started and ran away from her and tempta-
4 ton as though pursued by demons; and she,
poor girl, held out her hands after his re-
treating figure, but he was gone. And when
she could see him no more she fell swooning
upon the moss as If he had taken her life
/ with him. She lay thus like one dead
| for an hour, and when she regained her
serses she crept feebly home and to her bed,
where morning found her sick and suffering
/ When Laroque returned at night he found
her very i'll, with every symptom Of brain
fever. The physician ordered quiet, and said
that be feared she had Suffered some mental
shock.
That night in her delirium the unfortunate
father heard in disjointed sentences enough
to inform him that Raymond had abandoned
her, and be determined to have an explana-
ton with him, and to that end drove over tn
Meridon farm, and asked to see Raymond
alone.
"You wish to speak to me, sirl" said Ray
mond.
Eyes, NJ. De Noirville. My daughter is
dangerously i'll, and in her delirium she let es-
cape her enough to convince me that though
we thought your marriage would soon take
place, you suddenly withdraw your promise.
Was that done on account of my having been
adjudged guilty of murder!'
''No, and know that in spite Of that you
were the most honest and loyal man in the
world, and know that you have been very
unhappy
MY daughter loves you and viii die il you
t.. ~ fha fri ,3st.,r